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Maeve
Backstory Maeve grew up dirt poor on her cruel father's farm. Her only memories of her mother were distant but sweet, as she had died when Maeve was very young. By day she did back-breaking farm work and by night she tended bar at the local tavern, often charming her patrons into emptying their pockets for her. Her father demanded all of her wages, most of which she managed to hide from him. A prince's carriage overturned in her small town and he set his sights on Maeve, she had a magnetism he couldn't quite put his finger on. He was charming with a bigger-than-life personality but Maeve had always had a knack for seeing into people's true natures and she could see that he was a petty and vicious man. He offered her father a dowry worth more gold than he'd ever seen or heard of. And with that simple exchange, her life was no longer hers -- and then she became like an animal cornered. She gathered up all of her stashed savings, selling almost every little thing she owned, and stole away into the night. She was finally on her way to buy a ticket out of this world that wasn't doing her any favors. She kissed her mother's locket and entered the lottery - today was the day when her luck, and her life, would finally begin. She always thought she was just a low bred human with a few illusionist's tricks, but on the way to Hardholme she feels something divine beginning to awaken in her. '' "You can hear it can't you? That little voice. The one that says, "Don't stare too long. Don't touch. Don't do anything you might regret." I used to be the same. Whenever I wanted something, I could hear that voice telling me to stop. To be careful. To leave most of my life un-lived. You know the only place that voice left me alone? In my dreams. I was free. I could be as good, or as bad, as I felt like being. And if I wanted something, I could just reach out and take it. But then I would wake up, and the voice would start all over again. So I ran away, through the tear in the universe. And when I finally set foot back on solid ground, the first thing I heard was that gods-damned voice. Do you know what it said? It said, "This is the new world, and in this world, you can be whoever the fuck you want." '' On the Ship At the beginning of this trip Maeve steered clear of everyone as best she could in such a small space. She kept to herself, especially wary of the men. This only lasted a short time as her knack for seeing the truth of people showed her that (most) of them were trustworthy and good. Inducing many eye-rolls from the men, about once a month or so, me and the other girls take over a whole Bunk Room for a night. We bring in a gallon of mead and just joke and gossip and tell stories. I was surprised and saddened that Aurelae also cherished a token from her late mother. Nothing binds people together quite like a shared tragedy. I showed them the quirky physical changes I’ve been undergoing these last few years and they’ve been reassuring. I didn’t have much of a childhood after my mother died but I imagine it would’ve been something like these wonderful nights. In the mornings I make sure I’m the first one up to make coffee, put a little breakfast together, and greet the sleepyheads. I’ve been slowly adding more and more cream to Buck’s because I can tell he hates it. I swear, yesterday it was like seventy percent cream with a dash of coffee and he just smiles through it. I shouldn’t pick on him though, I think he knows I’m the one borrowing his romance novels and he hasn’t told anyone. I would be mortified. I have a basic understanding of the game of chess but I like to torment Fitz by asking, “Are the horsies winning?” and walking away before he can begin to explain (in agonizing depth) how the game is played. Cleaning up after my father for my whole life has left me with a few housekeeping skills and I’m often tidying up. I wouldn’t dare touch Aequitus’ or Kamara’s things though...I get a sharp look when I get too close to their belongings. The allotment of booze on this ship is pathetically low. I’ve convinced people to give me their Designated Fruit Packets and I’ve started making mead. Turns out mead is the gateway to true friendship. Not too long after that, I started ripping open people’s Designated Meal Packages and combining them into something that almost looks like real food. On the best evenings we eat all packed into the little kitchen while Carric plays his lute. If I listen very closely I can hear a terrifying sadness in the music. I try not to dwell on the future too much as I can say with ease that these have been the best years of my life. They’ve made everything else worth it. Whatever the future may hold with my now dear companions is an adventure I would never want to miss.